Last night, the eve of the 23rd of August, is a night where three years ago, I suffered the loss of having only one child. Now that I've had some time to reflect, I can validate that I was completely warranted in my sadness. My relationship with my firstborn changed a lot the next day, some for the better, some for the not. I still miss that little two-year-old boy. He's now a sharp, determined five year-old that I wouldn't have recognized in 2010. Of course, I've also gotten to know another incredible small person.
This evening, I'm having a difficult time coping with the truth, once again. My youngest, my baby, my sweet tiny Fuzzball, is no longer a baby.
I didn't plan for this kind of emotional tornado.